


"It makes it fancy"

by judasthedudas



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chaptered, Explicit Language, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26833426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judasthedudas/pseuds/judasthedudas
Summary: He peered up to find himself face to face with a young man—short, dark brown hair that hung over furrowed eyebrows, angry but somehow afraid looking, and strangely familiar. Taking a step back, it took Yuta a moment of blatant staring to realize that it was the person from the bar. He wasn’t as tall as he thought, but he was just as awkward.“Oh, I think I saw you back at—”“Don’t worry about it,” the person replied quickly, cutting Yuta off and walking past him.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta
Kudos: 3





	"It makes it fancy"

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure when I'll upload new chapters of this since I'm currently busy with school but if you guys like it I'll try my best to update often!!
> 
> I know we're all yuwin trash here so enjoy ~

Tobacco smoke filled Yuta’s lungs as he took a final puff of his cigarette and threw the butt onto the sidewalk. He was on his way to Itaewon where he was often found on late Friday nights like tonight, hopping from bar to bar and drinking until he forgot his own name. It was a way, albeit an unhealthy one, to de-stress after a long week of dealing with too many hours of work and shitty people. He knew that it wasn’t actually good for his mental health or his liver, but he still continued showing up in Itaewon as if his life depended on it.  
He approached his favourite bar: a small room in the basement of a building that was secluded from the rest of the neighbourhood, only known by Itaewon locals and those who cared to search for it. He liked to spend the earlier parts of his nights here to enjoy the music before he got too inebriated. As he opened the door and walked down the concrete steps, he could hear “Comme des Gar _ç_ ons” by _Jiwoo_ blaring through the speakers, accompanied by the stench of alcohol and sweat. Entering the main area of the bar, he counted maybe 15 people all dancing lazily and making small talk. Yuta seated himself at the counter, raising a friendly hand to the bartender he’d spoken to so many times but who he still forgot the name of.  
“The usual, please”, he began, but the bartender had already set his drink in front of him: a simple bottle of soju with a slice of lemon to make it “fancy”, as Yuta says. He smiled awkwardly at the bartender and wondered if maybe he really does come here too often.  
He moves to a small table in the corner of the room—his usual seat, where he won’t draw too much attention to himself—and begins scanning the faces in the bar. He recognizes most of them as the same people who come here every Saturday like he does, to escape the world outside and forget themselves for a moment. The one his eyes land on last is someone he doesn’t know, though: A tall, slender figure leaning against the wall with their hands in their pockets, their face obscured by dim lighting. Yuta squinted as if that would help him visualize their features easier, and he concluded that this person was probably around his age and was also seemingly uncomfortable with the aura in the room.  
_Why the fuck are they even here?_ Yuta thought as he placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it, sucking on it and pouring himself a shot of soju at the same time. He always wondered why some people bothered going to bars if they weren’t going to at least try to enjoy themselves. He peered up without lifting his head to study the figure again, now realizing that they were looking his way. Feeling particularly brazen, Yuta dared to throw his head back slowly, locking eyes with where he thought theirs were, and swallowing the soju from his glass without breaking eye contact. This caused the figure to turn away abruptly, and Yuta could almost sense the heat growing on their face from across the room. He chuckled to himself and poured another shot. 

  
Roughly an hour passed as Yuta finished off his second bottle of soju and too many cigarettes. He made a point to ignore the shady figure that was on the other side of the room this entire time, hoping that maybe his aloofness would lure them over to strike up a conversation. To his dismay, though, when he finally scanned the area he realized they’d left—as a matter of fact, the bar was basically empty now, apart from a couple making out near the bathroom and a creepy looking old man at the counter. This was a signal for Yuta to venture back out into Itaewon. 

Ascending the stairs, Yuta pulled his phone out of his back pocket to check the time: 

_2:24AM_

Still early for him at least, but he was wondering if it was early enough for the person from the bar to be wandering around Itaewon too. Considering how awkward they were, he quickly decided that the mysterious figure had probably gotten out of there as fast as they could and went home long ago. Yuta blew air out of his nose in amusement, remembering how they were staring at him so intently and how embarrassed they had gotten. He wondered why he was so affected by that; he couldn’t even see this random person’s face properly, but he’d been thinking about them since the beginning of the night.  
He needed another smoke. Pulling the almost empty pack from his back pocket, he focused on the flame of his lighter as it wrapped around the end of the cigarette a few inches from his face. Perhaps he was too focused, or maybe just already too drunk, as he didn’t realize where he was going until he walked lighter-first into a torso, almost catching the fabric of their shirt on fire.  
“Shit, I’m so sorry!”  
He peered up to find himself face to face with a young man—short, dark brown hair that hung over furrowed eyebrows, angry but somehow afraid looking, and strangely familiar. Taking a step back, it took Yuta a moment of blatant staring to realize that it was the person from the bar. He wasn’t as tall as he thought, but he was just as awkward.  
“Oh, I think I saw you back at—”  
“Don’t worry about it,” the person replied quickly, cutting Yuta off and walking past him. Yuta turned to watch him go, eyes wide with confusion and curiosity. His sight stayed locked on him until he saw him stop a few metres down the street, sitting on a bench and resting his forehead in his hand, seemingly frustrated and scrolling quickly through his phone. Yuta considered leaving it at that, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away especially when he’d hoped so much earlier to see this guy again.  
Yuta approached the bench cautiously, as if he were approaching a scared stray cat.  
“Is everything okay?” he asked, trying to sound as sincere as he could.  
The man sat up straight and closed his eyes, letting a shaky sigh escape his lips. Without looking in Yuta’s direction, he simply replied: “I’m lost.”  
“Oh. Um…do you need help?” Yuta slowly said, unsure if there was anything he could really do.  
“I don’t need _your_ help,” he replied, rising from his seat and beginning to walk away from Yuta again.  
_For fuck’s sake,_ Yuta thought as he rolled his eyes. He was really tempted to leave this guy alone now, but he resisted the urge to cuss him out and followed him instead.  
“Where are you headed? I’ve lived in Seoul for almost 10 years so I can probably show you the way,” Yuta said as he approached the man, matching his pace and offering him a cigarette. He didn’t take it, instead glaring down at Yuta’s hand before staring straight ahead again.  
“I need to get to Seongsu-dong,” he replied coldly.  
_What the fuck?_  
“Dude, that’s like an hour’s walk and the subway isn’t running. How the hell did you get here?”  
“I came with people from the dorm I’m staying in. I got a ride with them from there. They left me in that shitty bar and I don’t know where they went. They aren’t answering my calls.”  
Hearing that suddenly made Yuta feel bad. He could tell by a slight accent that he wasn’t from Korea; no wonder he looked so uncomfortable back at the bar. He ran his hand through the long, black hair at the nape of his neck, trying to come up with a solution.  
“Well,” he started, “I guess you have a few options. You could take a taxi to Seongsu-dong. I think it’s pretty cheap.”  
“I have no money.”  
_Jesus Christ._  
“Okay, uh, I guess you could walk, but it’s kind of far…” Yuta studied his face as he listed the various means of transportation, trying to gauge whether any of them appealed to him.  
“…or I have space at my apartment if you wanted somewhere to sleep until morning.”  
The young man stopped in his tracks and turned his head so fast Yuta thought it might snap off. He was met with wide, angry brown eyes staring him down.  
“Are you a creep? I have no idea who you are and you’re inviting me to your house at 3AM?! This is why I didn’t want you to help me.”  
With clenched fists he stormed off, leaving Yuta rubbing his temple with one hand and lighting a cigarette with the other. He fucked up. Was he really drunk enough off 2 bottles of soju to be asking random guys to his house? He was getting increasingly annoyed, especially after being called a creep when all he was trying to do was help. He guessed he couldn’t do any worse at this point.  
“I’m Yuta,” he yelled down the street as he began trailing the angered man again. “I’m from Japan. I’m 26 and I’m really not trying to be creepy.”  
People were staring now, but the other young man began slowing his pace, so Yuta continued:  
“I remember the struggles I had when I first moved to Korea. I can tell you’re not from here. I just wanted to help like how I wished someone would’ve helped me.”  
_Damn, that got deep. Maybe I am drunk,_ Yuta thought to himself.  
“If you don’t want to come to my place then stay in Itaewon until morning. I’ll stick around with you until the subway starts running again.” 

* * *

  
The two boys faced each other awkwardly across the table as they waited for the server to bring them their ramen. Yuta had ordered another bottle of soju and was pouring himself a shot when the other man finally spoke.  
“What’s with the lemon?”  
“It makes it fancy. What’s your name?”  
Yuta was met with furrowed brows of confusion but wasn’t questioned any further about his lemons.  
“Sicheng. And I’m 24 before you ask.”  
Yuta smirked at the sassiness of Sicheng’s response.  
“Where are you from?” he asked next.  
“China. I moved here about a month ago for school, but…”  
Sicheng’s voice trailed off as he noticed the server approaching with their dishes, steam and lovely smells rising from the bowls. Yuta smirked again, this time at the innocent look on Sicheng’s face as he watched his food get set down in front of him. His eyes stayed on him for a moment, following his hand as he dipped a spoon into the broth and brought it to his mouth to blow on it. Yuta could see now, in the light of the restaurant, Sicheng’s features. He had full brows and lips, a sharp jawline, a straight nose. His face was symmetrical and beautiful, and the rest of his body was beautiful too, with lengthy limbs and broad shoulders. The only ‘flaw’ was a single elf ear that was different from his other round ear. Yuta decided that he was adorable.  
“So, what part of China are you from? Do you speak Mandarin or Cantonese?” Yuta probed.  
“I’m from Wenzhou so I speak Wenzhounese. I grew up speaking Mandarin, too,” Sicheng replied nonchalantly, not even glancing up from his ramen.  
Yuta was intrigued as he’d never heard of Wenzhounese before, but he decided Sicheng probably didn’t want to talk too much right now, so he swallowed his shot of soju and started in on his own food. 

  
“Do you drink a lot?” the younger man suddenly asked.  
Freezing with chopsticks full of ramen halfway to his mouth, Yuta peered up to look at Sicheng. He didn’t think it had been that long, but Sicheng had already finished his food and was now staring intently across the table.  
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Yuta replied, avoiding eye contact. He couldn’t help but feel like he was about to get a lecture on why alcohol is bad, so he decided not to say anything else.  
“Cool. I like to drink but only with friends. I don’t really know why I agreed to coming to Itaewon with housemates I barely know.”  
Yuta looked up to see Sicheng with his head in his hand and scrolling through his phone again, the same pose he was in at the bench earlier. Yuta pursed his lips, frustrated by how upset Sicheng seemed about this whole ordeal but unsure of what to do to help. The only thing he ever did to cheer himself up was get shit-faced. He looked away from Sicheng again, suddenly regretting the life choices he’s made up to tonight— _maybe if I weren’t a borderline alcoholic I’d actually have some decent advice for this kid_ , he thought.  
Releasing an aggravated sigh, Yuta poured a shot of soju and threw his head back, downing it swiftly. Setting the glass back down, he poured another shot and reached across the table to place it in front of Sicheng.  
Sicheng eyed the glass for a moment before sitting up straight and staring at Yuta.  
“Are you trying to get me drunk now?” he questioned, half jokingly.  
“I’m trying to be your friend,” Yuta retorted, realizing after he’d spoken that he might’ve sounded a bit too harsh. He looked away from Sicheng again.  
“Sorry. Thanks,” Sicheng mumbled. Taking the shot glass between his long fingers, he tilted his head back slowly and drank. Yuta watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down once as he gulped; his eyes then met Sicheng’s as his face contorted into a grimace, a groan escaping his throat.  
Yuta leaned back in his chair and let out a loud laugh in amusement, filling the restaurant with the sound. Sicheng’s eyes were narrowed in a scowl but Yuta could see on his lips that he was supressing a smile as well.  
“Are you sure you drink? Soju isn’t _that_ strong,” Yuta joked.  
“Don’t judge me,” Sicheng answered, finally releasing the laughter he was hiding in a low chuckle.  
Yuta smiled as he finished off his ramen, glad that some of the tension between them was lifted. He didn’t want to admit how endearing Sicheng was to him already. 

  
A few moments passed before Yuta rose to his feet, gesturing to Sicheng to follow him outside for a cigarette after he’d paid for their meals. They stood a few feet apart as Yuta lit his smoke and Sicheng watched with awkward, folded arms.  
“So,” Yuta began, “why did you come to Korea?”  
Sicheng rubbed the nape of his neck as he spoke: “I visited Seoul in high school for a performance and decided I wanted to move here.”  
Yuta perked up at the word _performance._  
“What kind of performance?”  
“Dance. I learned traditional Chinese dance when I was younger.”  
“Oh shit!” Yuta replied, perhaps a little too enthusiastically; “I dance too! I’m no professional or anything but I like to do hip-hop at a studio near my place. Been doing it for a few years now.”  
Sicheng’s eyes traced Yuta’s body from his torso to his feet and back up again, stopping to meet his gaze and nodding, almost as if he were confirming that Yuta looked like someone who would dance.  
“You should come by sometime. We could show each other some moves.”  
_Fuck_ . Yuta had already said it before he realized that it was probably way too forward, especially after what happened earlier that night, and he held his breath. It took him a few more seconds to realize how suggestive it sounded too, and he almost visibly winced.  
To his surprise (and his relief) he saw a small smile form at the corners of Sicheng’s mouth.  
“That could be fun,” he replied coolly as his head lowered to look at the ground. Yuta could see his cheeks flushing and giggled.  
“Cute,” Yuta said quietly without thinking.  
“Huh?” Sicheng expressed, eyebrows raised and eyes wide as he looked up.  
Yuta felt the urge to pinch the cheeks of the younger man, but instead he flashed a toothy grin before taking a final puff of his cigarette and stepping on it.  
“Should we head for the subway station?” he asked, avoiding the questioning gaze he still had on him.  
Sicheng pulled his phone out and checked the time: 

_5:34AM_

As if seeing the time triggered his exhaustion, Sicheng covered his mouth to hide a deep yawn.  
“Come on, let’s go.” 

* * *

  
By the time they arrived at the station, Sicheng was practically dragging his feet. As they settled on a bench in front of the platform, Yuta could see the tears in Sicheng’s bloodshot eyes from yawning and the dark circles under them. This was around the time Yuta usually began getting tired too, so he assumed he looked similar; he was glad to get to go home soon and sleep the day away.  
The boys sat in silence for a moment, surrounded by nothing but footsteps of the few people coming to catch their rides to work. They had to wait another 20 minutes for Sicheng’s subway to arrive, but Yuta didn’t complain because it meant they could spend more time together.  
Yuta had been absent-mindedly scrolling through Twitter on his phone when he felt pressure on his shoulder, almost making him jump. He turned his head to see Sicheng’s resting there—he could tell he was already asleep because of the slow rising and falling of his chest—and he smiled to himself.  
“Cute,” he said quietly. 

Yuta waited until a few minutes before the subway arrived to wake Sicheng. He shifted, causing the younger man to sit up; he looked around groggily, blinking at Yuta before realizing where he was. Yuta thought he saw a moment of embarrassment in Sicheng’s face, but it quickly dissipated, likely due to him being too tired to care about whose shoulder he was just sleeping on.  
“Sorry,” Sicheng mumbled as he looked toward the platform.  
Yuta chuckled, giving the younger boy a quick pat on his head before deciding it was probably still too soon to be showing any sort of affection toward him.  
Sicheng checked the time on the station clock and began to rise from his seat, preparing to line up for when the subway’s doors opened upon its arrival.  
“Sicheng-ah,” Yuta called without thinking about formalities. Sicheng turned to meet his gaze as he stood.  
“I, uh…I had a really nice time tonight,” Yuta said, feeling his face grow hot.  
“Really? We didn’t do much,” Sicheng countered in a jokingly snide manner, eliciting a breathy laugh from Yuta.  
“Yeah. Would you wanna hang out again sometime?”  
Sicheng stared blankly for a moment at the suggestion before answering:  
“Sure. I don’t think I’ll be coming back to Itaewon for a while though.”  
Yuta dropped his gaze and nervously fiddled with a loose string on the cuff of his shirt.  
“Could I have your number?” he finally said without looking up.  
He continued to stare at the floor, wondering what expression Sicheng was wearing; he wasn’t saying anything and he could hear the subway approaching, so he was becoming antsy. Then Sicheng’s phone suddenly appeared in front of his face, the “contacts” app open and an empty space for a phone number under the name “Yuta-hyung”.  
“Hurry.”  
Yuta grabbed the phone and typed his number as quickly as possible, re-reading what he wrote too many times just to be certain, and handed it back to Sicheng who immediately snatched it and turned to get on the subway.  
“Don’t fall asleep and miss your stop,” Yuta called out playfully. Sicheng didn’t turn back to look at him, but he was sure he was rolling his eyes as he boarded. 

Yuta watched as the subway doors closed and it sped off down the tunnel to his right. His ride was due in the next 2 minutes, so he waited, now standing alone on the platform.  
He was untangling his earbuds when he felt his phone vibrate. Pulling it out, he read: 

_Yuta-hyung. Thanks for hanging out with me. It was nice of you._

He smiled to himself as he boarded the subway, saving the number to his contacts with the name “Sicheng-ah”, and responded: 

_No problem, I had fun. Let me know when you get home so I know you didn’t miss your stop._

A few minutes passed before he got a reply from Sicheng, who simply sent an eyeroll emoji. 

Yuta leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes as he listened to his favourite _HYDE_ song and thought about the night he just had. It was the first time in a long time that he’d really enjoyed himself without being stupidly inebriated, and it made him smile to himself again. He was grateful for that. On the contrary, he was still confused as to how someone he’d just met could have such a huge impact on his life, and he found himself becoming slightly worried that Sicheng didn’t feel as giddy about their meeting as he did. There wasn’t much time for him to ruminate, though, before he felt his phone vibrate again: 

_Home now. You made my night a lot better. Excited to see you again._

_God, I’m so fucked_ , Yuta thought to himself as he exited the subway and walked toward his apartment building. He felt like he could scream with happiness.  
When he arrived, he immediately crawled into bed and responded to Sicheng’s message before falling asleep: 

_I’m home now too. Thank you. Let’s get together soon <3_


End file.
